


A Penny On the Eye

by Dryad



Category: The X-Files, X Files Lyric Wheel
Genre: Gen, M for Melancholy, UST, X Files Lyric Wheel 2002, gen - Freeform, pg13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:38:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dryad/pseuds/Dryad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't fair, that Dana had only to reach out with her fingertips, and there he would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Penny On the Eye

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written in 2002 for the **X Files Lyric Wheel: The Red Shirt Wheel** , wherin the story had to be written from a minor character's POV.

~*~

"And everything's a mess," Maggie softly spoke the words in time with  
the song, watching the suds slide off of the plate. "and no one likes  
to be alone."

No one, indeed, she mused. It seemed like forever since Bill's death,  
and every now and then when she looked at the calender she was shocked  
to see that it had only been three years. Three years in a empty,  
four bed-roomed house, where music from the kitchen radio echoed  
tinnily down the halls, where dinner was a solemn affair eaten at the  
solitude of a table made for a minimum of six.

She tried to keep herself busy, though. Even with the children grown  
and out on their own, she still dusted and vacuumed their rooms every  
week, polished the pewter and silver to a soft sheen the first Monday  
of every month, hung the laundry out on Tuesdays if the weather was  
good.

Lately she'd taken to preparing her seedlings for spring. Yes, it was  
early January, but Dana's cancer had only just gone into remission,  
and it seemed appropriate that Maggie should bring out the seedling  
trays, the bags of soil, and the seed packets into the little hothouse  
attached to the garage. She'd already drawn up several plans for both  
the front and back gardens, although she had yet to choose which ones  
would be best. She would make the garden beautiful, she would tend  
the plants, nurture them to full health as Dana would not allow her to  
do.

"It's ugly, Mom," she had said, settling onto Bill's couch with a  
blanket over her lap.

In the silence that followed, newly born Matthew fussed loudly  
upstairs.

Maggie had heard the underlying unspoken self-commentary 'I'm ugly'  
anyway. Unable to bite back her own anger, she replied, "You let Fox  
see."

"Mulder's seen a lot worse," Dana reproachfully muttered.

_"Worse?"_ she huffed, astounded. "What's worse than being awakened by  
the touch of your dead husband's cooling flesh? What's worse than  
having to decide to take not one, but both of your daughters off of  
life support? What's worse than outliving your own child?"

She had clapped one hand to her mouth, mortified at the last sentence.  
Dana had said nothing, though, merely plucked at a loose thread on her  
shirtsleeve, eyes downcast.

Maggie chewed briefly on her lip, wondering where she had gone wrong  
with her children. Billy had turned out the most normal of them all.  
Wedded, divorced with an annulment, married again. Free-spirited  
Melissa hadn't wanted any family except on her own terms. Who knew  
where Charles was, and as for Dana, well.

Strange to think she wasn't all that close to her remaining daughter.  
She'd made many attempts to re-connect after Missy's death, yet her  
overtures had been rebuffed. Delia Morrison said Dana would come back  
to her once she realized her mother wouldn't be around forever, but  
Maggie wasn't so sure.

Even as a child, Dana had been secretive, and as an adult she was  
locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Her withdrawal had begun around the  
time she realized the Captain wasn't going to stay home, would never  
stay home, no matter how much she cried and screamed, how often she  
ran away and hid. Out of the four of them, Dana had been the most  
affected, perhaps the most scarred, by her father being away so often  
for so long.

The demented trill of birdsong-by-phone jarred Maggie from her  
reverie. Annoyed with herself for following the never-ending train of thought  
one more time, and while doing the dishes no less, she quickly dried  
her hands and stalked down the hall. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mom."

"Dana! I was just thinking about you," Maggie said, grimacing at the  
poor sound quality. "Where are you?"

"Allentown. We're so close, I was wondering if we could stop by?"

"Of course! When do you think you'll arrive?"

"Oh - "

There was brief, muted conversation in the background.

" - about an hour, assuming we don't hit traffic."

"Have you eaten yet? You're not going straight on to Washington, are  
you? It's so late..." Maggie forced herself to stop before Dana  
accused her of nagging.

"Would it be all right if we stayed over? If not, we could always - "

"Dana Katherine Scully, what kind of mother do you think I am? I'll  
have your rooms ready by the time you get here."

"Thanks, Mom. We really appreciate this."

"I'll be glad to have your company," she said. "I'll see you in a  
little bit."

"Okay, bye."

They probably hadn't had more than a few bites to eat for dinner,  
maybe stopping at a fast food restaurant, so Maggie threw together  
some soup with the leftovers from Sunday's roast. She fixed it up  
with some good beef stock and a cup of pearl barley, a couple of  
tomatoes that were too soft to use in sandwiches, a thinly sliced  
carrot, and a finely chopped potato. Once the soup was bubbling away  
on the stove top, she put the oven on low heat and put in a loaf of  
foil-wrapped garlic bread to warm.

When the doorbell rang she raced down the stairs, eager to see if Dana  
had gained any more weight since the holidays. She opened the door  
and drew her daughter into a tight, welcoming hug. Of course she was  
also surreptitiously feeling for bones, but Dana's layers of suit and  
winter-weight woolen coat were too thick for her to tell if she'd been  
eating. Fox loomed in the background, nervous intensity coupled with  
great weariness and a slight smile.

"God, don't let me keep you out there, come in, come in," she said,  
standing back to let them pass. "Your drive was all right?"

"It was fine, once Dana could reach the pedals," Fox answered,  
rebalancing an overnight bag on his shoulder and looking at Dana with  
fond smirk.

Dana raised one eyebrow. "Ignore everything he says, Mom," she turned  
her attention to Maggie. "Mm, something smells good."

"That would be your dinner," Maggie said, shooing them forward. "Which  
you get to eat as soon as you freshen up. Dana, I put you in Bill's  
old room, Fox is in Charlie's. Why don't you two get settled and I'll  
put your meal on the table. Should I make any coffee?"

"Not for me, thank you," Fox replied.

"Me neither," Dana said, turning and heading for the stairs.

Fox followed, saying - just loud enough for Maggie to overhear, "I  
think I'd rather be in your old room, Scully."

_'"I like him."'_

That's what Dana had said of Fox all those years ago, her forehead  
creased, one corner of her mouth upturned, a quizzical expression on  
her face, as if he was a puzzle she couldn't quite figure out. The  
Captain had eloquently indicated his displeasure by immediately  
introducing the next subject, Bill and Tara's impending marriage.

How he'd liked Tara. The feeling had been mutual. After the walking  
disaster that had been Julie - four months and three days of the  
Captain saying "That woman is ruining my son" and "God's grace, don't  
let them have children" - she too had welcomed Tara with open arms.

So at least Bill would be taken care of when she joined their father.  
Fox would be there for Dana, too, but for how long? It wasn't that  
she didn't like him, she did...she just didn't understand why Dana had  
a blind eye towards a more available man. A woman of her age should  
have a husband, children. And no matter how adamant Dana was, Maggie  
refused to believe all hope was lost. She just needed to find the  
right man, and nature would take its proper course.

She set the table, then sat and sipped her tea while they ate.  
Although their conversation was low key and pleasant, with no  
discussion of the case they had been on, Maggie could see regret and  
guilt haunting their expressions, plus something she couldn't  
identify. It wasn't hopelessness, exactly, so much as. . .what? She  
couldn't think of the appropriate word. Lethargy? Stupefaction?  
Apathy? Not even in the depths of despair had she seen either one of  
them in this frame of mind, and as callous as it sounded, she didn't  
think she wanted to know what could have made them so...withdrawn.

Fragile.

No. Her children were strong. Dana had survived being abducted.  
She had lived through cancer, if only through the Grace of God.  
Charlie, too, was still alive, despite his attempts to the contrary.

She didn't think any of them realized how weak she was without the  
Captain. He had been her strength, only the knowledge of his eventual  
return keeping her from crawling back to her own mother in fright  
every time he shipped out. She remembered shaking in terror the first  
time she had to apply for Navy housing. So many forms to fill out,  
with the of getting something wrong. Bill had left behind a copy of  
his shipping orders and a list of instructions for what else needed to  
be done. Moving day inevetably found her in the bathroom, trying to  
muffle her vomiting and pathetic whimpers.

Charleston.  
Brunswick.  
San Diego.  
Wahiawa.  
Sasebo.

"Mom?"

Great Lakes.  
Pensacola.  
Norfolk.  
New London.  
Annapolis.

The final move to Baltimore when Bill had retired had been a balm to  
her nerves, and for only the second time in her marriage had she felt  
she had his full attention. How she had reveled in it. She sighed  
and stared blankly at the small hand covering her own.

"Mom? Are you all right?"

Maggie shook her head, pasted a smile on her lips. "I'm fine, Dana.  
Would you like dessert? I think there's some ice cream in the  
freezer."

Dana looked at her for a long moment before replying. "No,  
no...we're..." she glanced at Fox. "We'll clean up and load the  
dishwasher, why don't you go to bed?"

With a single nod Maggie agreed, abruptly exhausted. Ordinarily she  
loved her daughter's company, and would give anything to spend even an  
extra five minutes with her, especially taking the past year into  
consideration, yet now all she wanted to do was sleep.

Later on she came to herself, staring wide-eyed at the rose on the  
ceiling, holding her breath and listening hard for some sound. A low  
moan brought her to full awareness. And then another, choked off as  
it began to rise. What...? Why, it almost sounded like -

Surely not.

They _wouldn't_. Not in her house. Not in the room next to hers, not in  
her very presence.

After hearing a couple of dull thuds on the wall and a few muffled  
words Maggie sat up, flinging the covers off of her legs. This was  
 _unconscionable_ , that they should disrespect her in this way.  
Discovering Missy half-naked in the garage with that boy had been bad  
enough, but Dana was going too far.

She didn't bother with her bathrobe or slippers, storming out of her  
room instead with the firm intent of giving both of them a piece of  
her mind. She came to a halt in front of Fox's room, arm raised,  
closed fist ready to knock.

"Mom!"

Confused, Maggie did a double take as Dana strode down the dark  
hallway, ghostly in pale satin pyjamas. "I thought - I heard..."

Dana grabbed Maggie's arm and pulled it back. "He's just having a  
nightmare."

And how do you know that, she desperately wanted to ask. What,  
precisely, is the nature of your relationship? Why is he the one you  
run to, the one you follow? Do you love him? _Is that the great  
secret?_

"You don't have to come in," Dana eyed her for a second, then opened  
the door without knocking. "Mulder, it's me."

Maggie followed, turning on the little lamp on top of the dresser next  
to the door. Fox lay still in a tangle of blankets and white sheets  
on the single bed.

Dana approached him, whispering, "It's just me."

He twitched towards her when she perched on the edge of the mattress.  
"Don', don', 's not safe," he muttered.

"Mulder, you're dreaming," Dana said. She stroked his hand gently.  
"You're all right, I'm here."

Fox sat up so suddenly that Maggie took a step back in surprise. He  
clutched Dana's hand between both of his own. "Scully, Scully."

"You were having a nightmare," Dana said, glancing at Maggie as if she  
expected a reprimand.

"He had Emily, and he was making her do things to those women, and I  
didn't know how to stop him. You weren't there. I couldn't stop her,  
Scully. Her skin burned my hands."

Dana was silent after this terrible recitation.

"I tried to save her, you have to believe me," Fox continued, voice  
cracking in his sincerity. He sounded like he was on the verge of  
tears.

"I know, Mulder. Why don't you lie back down and get some sleep,  
okay?"

God, why couldn't Dana give him what he needed the most, a simple hug?  
Could she be more stubborn? Maggie pursed her lips and approached the  
bed.

Fox did a double take, then looked back at Dana. "Scully, am I going  
mad, or is your mother in the room?"

Even Dana couldn't resist a smile at his words. "She's really here."

"Oh. Hi."

"Fox, it's late. You need to rest," Maggie said. He stared at her,  
and in the gentle light she saw what Dana refused to acknowledge in  
front of her - wet eyes and a trembling chin. Unlike her daughter,  
she couldn't resist the little boy in him, and held her arms out.  
She was immediately enveloped, his grasp tight, his breathing shaky.

While she had noted he wore only pajama bottoms, it hadn't occurred to  
her that his skin would be furnace-hot, like silk under her hands, her  
chin. Smooth muscle rippled under her palms. He smelled of shampoo  
and perspiration and clean masculinity. The urge to suckle on the  
area between neck and shoulder was almost overwhelming, so with a  
final squeeze, she pulled away and stood up. "Well. Good night.  
Don't let the bedbugs bite."

Watching him lie down again, for a moment she was fiercely jealous.  
It wasn't fair, that Dana had only to reach out with her fingertips,  
and there he would be, while she remained a widow, doomed to never  
share her bed with another man.

Guilt immediately washed over her as soon as she left the room. But  
it was true! Maggie had no doubt he would do whatever Dana asked, as  
Dana did for him. She little envied her barren, unloved,  
works-with-dead-people daughter. Maggie had done what was required,  
marrying, raising children, burying family, serving the church. Her  
life was full.

So why did she feel like a traitor, thinking shameful thoughts about  
Fox Mulder?

Morning brought no respite. After a night spent tossing and turning,  
Maggie rose with before dawn. She watched Good Morning America, made  
coffee, inspected the cut crystal for smudges and cracks. She read  
the paper, consulted her diary for the day's events, said five Hail  
Mary's.

She insisted on feeding Fox and Dana before they left, because Justice  
didn't run on coffee alone.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Mom," Dana replied, picking up her  
overnight bag.

"Scully, I'll be out in a minute," Fox said, fiddling with something  
in his jacket.

She looked at him curiously, then looked at Maggie. "I'll call you on  
Friday, okay?"

"Sure," Maggie accepted a one-armed neck hug and a peck on the cheek  
before turning to Fox. "Have you gotten everything from upstairs?"

He waited until Dana opened the front door before answering. "Mrs.  
Scully. . ." he paused, chewing momentarily on his lower lip. "I  
realize I'm overstepping the bounds, but I couldn't leave without  
giving you this."

Maggie looked at the business card he drew out of his pocket and  
handed to her. "I already know the office number, Fox."

He regarded her uneasily, shifting from foot to foot. "My home number  
is on the back. I just wanted you to know that if you ever feel the  
need to talk to someone, I'm available."

Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes.

"Day or night, it doesn't matter."

She could only nod, not trusting herself to speak, barely able to  
handle the intensity of his gaze. Outside, a horn beeped twice.

"Sounds like Leadfoot's getting antsy," he said with a smile. A  
second later it dropped away. He reached out and touched the back of  
her hand. "You're not alone, Mrs. Scully. Don't ever think that."

Maggie nodded again, wanting him to leave so she could continue  
falling apart in private.

He seemed to take her silence for assent because he turned and left,  
closing the door quietly behind him.

Once again the bathroom was her refuge. She didn't cry, but she wiped  
away the stray tears and blew her nose without once looking in the  
mirror.

On her way back to the kitchen, she stopped in the hallway and  
carefully transcribed his number into her day planner, and tucked the  
card away safely in her wallet.

There was so much to be done. Dishes, starting the seeds, picking a  
garden plan. She ought to stock up at the grocery store, or maybe go  
to Filene's Basement, see if there were any bargains to be had for  
Matthew. The vacuum needed more bags, and you could never have enough toilet  
paper, so maybe she'd stop at the grocery store, too.

She had hours yet before she could luxuriate in his gift, before she  
could scrutinize what it meant. Yes, she had accepted him as being  
part of her extended family years ago, but that wasn't the same as  
being a part of his extended family. The card, though, that was  
something. A sign.

Maybe he was right, maybe she wasn't really alone after all.

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> _**NOTES ARE FROM 2002:** _
> 
>  
> 
> Author's Note: Oh, I'm not happy with this piece, but I can't quite  
> put my finger on what's wrong with it. I hope it's enjoyable  
> nonetheless.
> 
> Obviously I've never been around any Navy people, so I'm sure what I've  
> described here is probably faaaaaaaaaar from the reality of living in a  
> Navy family. I have no idea if a Captain/Commander would be moved  
> around frequently, but I'm going to pretend that Bill and Maggie were  
> married at a very young age, yadda, yadda, yadda. And yes, I've only  
> just realized that it makes far more sense for Mrs. Scully to live in  
> Bethesda or Annapolis than Baltimore, but for the purposes of this  
> story, she's 'up north'.
> 
> Lyrics courtesy of Jamwired:
> 
>  
> 
> "I'm With You" by Avril Lavigne
> 
>  
> 
> _I'm standing on a bridge_  
>  I'm waiting in the dark  
> I thought that you'd be here by now  
> There's nothing but the rain  
> No footsteps on the ground  
> I'm listening but there's no sound
> 
>  
> 
> Isn't anyone trying to find me?  
> Won't somebody come take me home  
> It's a damn cold night  
> Trying to figure out this life  
> Won't you take me by the hand  
> take me somewhere new  
> I don't know who you are  
> but I...I'm with you
> 
>  
> 
> I'm looking for a place  
> I'm searching for a face  
> is anybody here I know  
> 'cause nothing's going right  
> and everything's a mess  
> and no one likes to be alone
> 
>  
> 
> Isn't anyone tryin to find me?  
> Won't somebody come take me home  
> It's a damn cold night  
> Trying to figure out this life  
> Won't you take me by the hand  
> take me somewhere new  
> I dont know who you are  
> but I...I'm with you
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, why is everything so confusing  
> maybe I'm just out of my mind
> 
>  
> 
> It's a damn cold night  
> Trying to figure out this life  
> Won't you take me by the hand  
> take me somewhere new  
> I don't know who you are  
> but I...I'm with you
> 
>  
> 
> Take me by the hand  
> take me somewhere new  
> I don't know who you are  
> but I...I'm with you  
> I'm with you
> 
>  
> 
> Take me by the han  
> take me somewhere new  
> I don't know who you are  
> but I...I'm with you  
> I'm with you  
> I'm with you


End file.
